Once, Namiko and Kichirou had come home to a completely silent home. Immediately, bags of groceries were dropped as the two split up to search for their two sons. When they came home to a silent house knowing that it was just Kasuka, they were fine. When it was just Shizuo, it wasn’t always, but more or less he was quiet on his own.
But when Shizuo and Kasuka were both home and they knew there was just one cup of pudding left (which was why the sudden grocery trip), they were extremely nervous that the house was intact and the two were silent.
A hushed whisper caught the woman’s attention as she hurried to where Kichirou was, looking into Shizuo’s room. And that was the day they realized that the one thing that could absorb Shizuo and keep him quiet for hours and hours was his new DS and the Pokemon game Kasuka had just given him.
Surprisingly, losing battles and getting stuck on parts of the game didn’t piss him off into violent rages; Shizuo almost seemed happy whenever he’d get stuck and sit quietly on his bed, cross legged, body hunched as he’d peer at his DS. And Kasuka would sit next to him, playing just as quietly, only talking to ask his brother for help or clarification.
But then came a day where the red flashing light had been neglected long enough and the screen went black just as Shizuo’s eyes lit up with beating a gym. As soon as the entire device shut down though, the excitement faded almost as quickly and Kasuka’s ‘niisan?’ was ignored for Shizuo laying down and hugging a pillow, face buried in his sheets.
And when he refused to play again, Namiko and Kichirou went back to supplying their refrigerator with endless pudding cups.
“Niisan. Niisan. Niisan.”
Little Heiwajima Kasuka tugged on his brother’s sleeve, intent on not leaving until he had an answer. Weeks passed and Shizuo’s DS was charged only because of Kasuka, but it hadn’t been opened since that disappointing afternoon.
Finally turning, Shizuo looked at his little brother offering him his DS.
“…No. I don’t want to.”
“But I want to battle.”
“I don’t want to.”
Ten minutes later, Namiko walked by with a hamper of dirty laundry, freezing by Shizuo’s door frame, smiling to see her two sons sitting together, almost mirroring each other with their games.
“Kichirou!” she called happily on her phone. “You can stop buying pudding!”